A Haunting
by icyfire
Summary: Victoria's haunted with worry for Zorro. Since this is a Halloween story, she's haunted by something--or someone--else, too.
1. Default Chapter

TITLE: A Haunting  
  
AUTHOR: Robin AKA icyfire  
  
EMAIL: wideyed @ mikrotec.com (take out the spaces :) )  
  
AUTHORS NOTES: This story was written to be submitted to a contest held by the now defunct Zorro Online Magazine. I wrote it--and encouraged others to join--because I thought "The more the merrier!" So, I hammered one out real quick.  
  
I'll share a little secret. I did not like this story when I wrote it. Took me months to read it again, even after I won the darn contest! It has since become one of my favorites. Fickle, fickle.  
  
RATING: I've rated this one PG, just because of subject matter. I'm sure the young ones see much scarier on tv--I know I do!--but I'd rather be safe than sorry.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them. I make no money.  
  
SUMMARY: Victoria's haunted with worry for Zorro. Since this is a Halloween story, she's haunted by something--or someone--else, too.  
  
HUGE thanks again to the wonderful Carrie, whose work helped to make this a better fic. As always, I refused to share any mistakes! They are mine! Mine! Mine!  
  
Z Z Z  
  
October had been exceptionally chilly this year. Peasants and caballeros alike wrapped themselves tightly if out, even when the sun was at its hottest. The strange weather had been a great topic of conversation at the tavern, and Victoria was glad that everyone had moved on to the new subject, leaving the de la Vegas alone to grieve in peace.  
  
It was October 30th; exactly one month after Gilberto had died by the alcalde's hand. Diego and Don Alejandro had found out only moments before his death the terrible secret that had brought him to their pueblo. He had been Don Alejandro's son, born just two minutes before Diego. The news had left everyone in their pueblo stunned and horrified. It had also been a new bit of gossip to spread around and analyze.  
  
Leaning against a post on her front porch, a shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders, Victoria looked out over the dark night. The stars filled the sky, bright against the almost moonless blackness. She ignored the sounds coming from inside her tavern, knowing that the girls could handle the crowd alone. Her thoughts were filled with one man, and to her amazement, it was not Zorro. No, the man she had been thinking about all month was Diego.  
  
She could still remember his eyes the last time she saw him, looking the same as the day he had rode into the pueblo with his brother's body. They had been filled with so much pain and horror that he had looked like a different person. Her heart had ached from his anguish, and then he had shared the joyful news that he was going to adopt Felipe. She had thought that the adoption would help heal the wounds that Gilberto had rent into the men's souls.  
  
She believed that it had helped Don Alejandro. As the days passed and more of the paperwork was filed, she saw the caballero's smile return and heard the contentment in his voice. There was still a haunted look in his eyes sometimes, but Victoria knew, in her heart, that the look would never leave the man forever. Whenever he thought about his lost son, the horror he felt would be seen in his eyes.  
  
Don Diego, though, seemed unable to move past the tragedy that had struck his family. He had not returned to the pueblo since his brother's funeral service. Victoria had not seen him once after she had left him alone with his father, beside a freshly cut cross, high on a hill. That rise had the best view of the territory, and Doña Elena had loved it. Alejandro had decided to bury the son next to the mother.  
  
Drawing her meager cover even tighter, Victoria shivered. She tried to reassure herself that Diego was handling it in his own way, but she found herself worrying about the man incessantly. His absence from the community spoke volumes to her, and the small lines of apprehension that lined Don Alejandro's eyes when Diego was mentioned told her that the de la Vega heir was not handling the events as well as his father thought he would.  
  
Victoria stood straight and sighed heavily. What is wrong with me? she wondered. She was in love with Zorro, and if she was to be worrying about anyone, it should be him. She had last seen him on the same day as Diego. Late that night, long after she had fallen asleep, she had awakened to find him sitting in a chair next to her bed. "Go back to sleep, mi presciosa," he had whispered. "I just needed to be with you tonight." For some reason, she had followed his instruction and had fallen into one of the deepest sleeps that she had enjoyed since her mother had died. She would have believed it a dream except for the lone rose lying on her pillow when she awoke.  
  
She was worried about Zorro! It was just that concern about Diego seemed to consume her mind. She shivered again, but this time not from the cold. An overwhelming sense of dread had started to overtake her every time she thought of the young caballero. In the middle of serving the mid-day meal, she would suddenly have to retreat to her kitchen to gather herself. Earlier, she had broken into tears, and that was why she now stood outside in the silent plaza with her dismal thoughts.  
  
Suddenly, she felt icy fingers, so cold that they burned, gripping onto her shoulder and a husky whisper floated through her mind. "You must save him," the breeze murmured in her ear. Victoria spun around only to find nothing but muted light behind her. She rubbed her forehead. Her imagination was getting the best of her. Tomorrow she would go to the de la Vega hacienda herself and talk to Diego. That should put her active mind to rest. She marched back into the tavern, and refused to let another thought of Diego de la Vega enter her mind.  
  
***  
  
Later that night, Victoria sat in her bed trembling from the intense cold. She did not remember ever feeling so chilly before, not even in the middle of the most frigid winter. When she had apologized earlier to her guest Señor de la Peña about the weather, he had given her a look that made her feel like he thought she was loco. Laughing half-heartedly, he answered: "Actually, I was just thinking that the cold spell seems to be ending."  
  
How could the man believe such a mad idea? It was obviously colder tonight than it ever had been, and no amount of denial would ever change that fact. She refused to admit that maybe her chill had something to do with Diego. After all, she was going bright and early in the morning to see him. She might even drag him back to the pueblo. Tomorrow was--Victoria put her head down on her arms in dismay. Tomorrow was the festival! The alcalde had planned a careful welcome for the governor, since the man was coming to investigate the death of a royal emissary. To give him credit, she realized that he was also hoping to wipe the memories of the emissary's arrival from people's mind.  
  
Besides, Victoria knew that Don Alejandro and Diego would take care of the governor for DeSoto. They had influence, and they would use it to make sure DeSoto was forgiven for the bullet he had put in the man's heart. He had saved Diego's life with that shot, and the de la Vegas would make sure that he was rewarded for his actions instead of punished.  
  
Victoria, however, had much to worry about for the festival. She was in charge of the food, but she had prepared most of the dishes yesterday. Somehow, her responsibilities had managed to slip her mind when she had decided to go and see Diego. Victoria pulled another blanket around her, and made herself lie down in her bed. She would be busy from the time she woke up until night fall, when the governor would then go to the de la Vega hacienda for dinner and to sleep. The beautiful tavern owner decided that she did not care if she did bother the governor. She had to see Diego, and as soon as she was free tomorrow night, she would go and see him.  
  
"Too late." the wind moaned. "Too late."  
  
Victoria sat up in the bed at the sound. Her heart was pounding in fear, and she could not seem to stop the small shakes that racked her body. Quickly letting out a deep breath, she lay back down on the bed. It was getting ridiculous. Hearing voices in the wind! She needed her rest, and she was going to get to it! No imaginary voices would keep her awake. Unfortunately, Victoria's visits to the land of sleep were only fitful and brief that night.  
  
***  
  
A red-eyed Victoria dragged herself out of bed at five in the morning. She needed the time to get the food heated. Mendoza and the lancers were to prepare the table, and to carry the large dishes out for her later. Victoria's hands trembled as she pulled on her bright red skirt. She told herself that it was just the cold, and if she felt like crying, it was only because of the lack of sleep.  
  
She carefully lit a candle and walked quietly through the hallway. She had never noticed before how candlelight made everything seem distorted and frightening. Victoria tried to shake the horrible feeling that was clenching her heart, but it had a hold on her. She wondered if she was going mad. Maybe she needed to leave the tavern in Bernardo's capable hands again, and go somewhere to rest. She and Diego had had a wonderful time in Santa Paulo. They could go and stay in the inn and--Victoria almost lost her footing. She was dreaming of going away with Diego?  
  
She forced her thoughts away from the handsome caballero again, and quickly walked into the kitchen. She turned and lighted the other candles from the one she had burning in her hands, and then carefully placed them around the room to help brighten it. The sun would be rising soon, and she would be able to put them out then. Needing the space, she reached over and gathered the few plates that she had left out the night before to dry. She then turned around to find a dead man sitting at her kitchen table.  
  
She dropped the plates. The man at the table gave a familiar deep laugh. "Quiet, Señorita! You might wake the dead," the former alcalde of Los Angeles, Luis Ramón, told her.  
  
Victoria started to feel the room spin around her. "Don't you dare faint on me, Señorita Escalante! I've tried too hard to get your attention to have you ignore me again when you wake up! Now, sit down and put your head between your knees!"  
  
She found herself obeying instructions from a dead man. Luis Ramón was dead. Of that, Victoria had no doubt. She and Mendoza had been the only ones present for the short service at the fortress's chapel. She had seen his stiff body lying in that casket, and she had touched his cold flesh to keep him out of her dreams. Victoria frowned. It apparently had not worked.  
  
Ramón chuckled. "You are still the same, I see. Unable to believe what your own eyes tell you, what your own ears whisper, and what your heart knows is the truth." He leaned over and looked her in the eyes, mere inches from her face. She expected to feel his icy breath on her face, but there was none. Ghosts do not breathe.  
  
Victoria felt herself begin shivering again as the chill that had plagued her for almost a month returned. Ramón noticed, and pulled away from her. "I'm sorry. We draw heat from you. Oh, to be warm again," he sighed. "I've been trying to get your attention for a long time. I'm surprised that you finally opened your eyes to me. Maybe it is because you got so little sleep last night . . ."  
  
"You're dead," Victoria told the ghost. She almost wanted to laugh at how matter-of-fact her voice sounded.  
  
"I know," Ramón smirked. "I have been for a long time."  
  
Victoria stood and walked past the former alcalde. She found herself stroking the fire and placing the first dish in to cook. She felt Ramón's eyes watching her, but the man--ghost--did not make a sound as she went about her business. Taking a deep breath, she turned to find that the dead man was still sitting at her table, a large grin on his face.  
  
She sank down on the seat across from him and poured herself a large glass of water. The cool liquid helped soothe her unsettled nerves, and she found herself almost offering a ghost a drink out of habit. "Why are you here?" she finally asked.  
  
"Because, I want to help," he said. Victoria looked into his eyes and seen something there that had been absent during his life--compassion and understanding.  
  
"Help with what?" Victoria felt as if a part of herself, the part that could feel, was standing somewhere else and watching this exchange. She should be hysterical right now.  
  
Ramón lost his smile. Looking at her sadly for a moment, he stood and walked around her kitchen. Victoria thought he looked so alive, but she noticed the lack of echoes from his boots "hitting" the floor. He was dead. Of that, Victoria was certain.  
  
"Do you want to know what hell is, Victoria?" he asked her kindly. He would have asked that question with a mocking lilt when he was alive. Death had really changed the man, Victoria thought, and then laughed at the notion.  
  
Noticing the question in Ramón's eyes, Victoria told him her thoughts. "I was just thinking that death had really changed you, and then I thought how stupid . . ."  
  
The former alcalde shook his head. "No, it's not a silly thought at all. I asked you if you wanted to know what hell was like, and the answer has to something to do with your thought. Death didn't change me at all, Señorita, but hell did." He looked over her head for a moment, lost in memories that Victoria imagined where unbearable. "Hell . . .hell is walking around the earth and seeing all the good that you could have done, knowing exactly what heartaches in the world are your fault, which ones you caused by your selfishness. You can feel it! Their pain is your pain! The pain you should have stopped becomes a part of you, and it doesn't ever heal!"  
  
Ramón's eyes filled with a pain that Victoria would have believed impossible when he was alive. "I've visited them. The people I cheated. I can see the two worlds; the world that would have existed if not for my selfishness is a faint image that haunts me!"  
  
She leaned forward, wishing that she could comfort the man. "You wanted to help you said. Help who?"  
  
Ramón gave her a self-mocking grin. "Him," was all he answered. She knew whom he meant.  
  
"You want to help Zorro?" She had a hard time believing that death had changed the man that much. He had hated the masked outlaw.  
  
"Yes, Zorro. He's . . ." Ramón stopped. "I can't tell you. You will have to figure it out on your own. I can tell you that someone plans to kill the Governor today."  
  
"Zorro has handled assassins before," Victoria answered, unsure of what to say. "Is this assassin really good?"  
  
Ramón smiled, his teeth not reflecting the light. "No, he's actually pretty incompetent," he answered. Ignoring her shivers, he leaned close to her, and whispered. "Zorro's fought for this pueblo for a long time. When do you think the people will start fighting their own battles?" He suddenly disappeared.  
  
Victoria sat there for a moment, unable to gather her thoughts. Ramón wanted to help Zorro, but he said that the assassin was inept. Zorro had always managed to handle even the most dangerous of criminals. He could surely handle a clumsy one, and why should a ghost be worried about his enemy?  
  
Smelling the dish in the fire, Victoria stood and carefully took it out of the flames. She quickly placed the next dish into the fire, thinking about Ramón. Maybe he was just a dream, a figment of her imagination. Zorro was able to handle himself. If he had come to talk to her about Don Diego . . .She turned from the fire to find another dead man in her kitchen.  
  
Victoria was only startled this time. She felt like she was in a play, because this did not happen in real life. Maybe she was sick and imagining that ghosts were visiting her. Talking with the people of the pueblo, she had heard stories of the sick talking to their dead family. Why would she dream of a dead alcalde and a dead emissary though? Shouldn't she talk to her mother and father?  
  
"That old fool doesn't know what he's talking about," Gilberto Resendo said to her with that grin she had hated while he was alive. He sighed, or went through the motions of someone sighing because no air passed his lips. He seemed to "act" more alive then Ramón, but he had only been dead for a month and a day.  
  
"Actually, he does know what his hell is, but my punishment is quiet different, Señorita. Mine is knowing the love I could have felt while I was alive--if only I hadn't been so blinded by hate." He caressed her cheek, and Victoria gasped from the intense cold. With sad eyes, he lowered his hands. "I'm sorry . . .you are so warm and alive."  
  
Victoria watched the emissary pace back and forth. "You could suffer the same punishment you know." Gasping in shock at his words, Victoria swirled to look at him. "I don't mean that you deserve to go to hell," Resendo said with a laugh. "You are a lot like me. Blind--not by hate--but blind nonetheless. I had it figured out in four days what you have refused to see for nine years! Zorro's identity is known to you, you just refuse to see it!"  
  
Victoria's eyes stayed focus on Resendo's. "You are here to help Zorro, too?" Was the man she loved in such a great danger that his two worst enemies would come back from the dead to help?  
  
Resendo stopped his pacing, glancing at her a moment, before answering. He stared into the warm fire. "No, I am here to help my brother," he said so softly Victoria almost did not hear him.  
  
Her heart began its familiar pounding. "Diego? Diego's in danger?" She heard the quiver in her voice, and wished that she were stronger. She hated feeling so weak where the caballero was concerned. He was haunting her . . .  
  
"I've tried--Oh, how I've tried. He refuses to listen though! His mind rejects anything that his science cannot explain." He looked over at the attentive Victoria and smiled a sad smile. "Instead of helping, I've only caused him torment. I entered his dreams every night . . ." Victoria could see the shine of tears in the emissary's eyes before he turned away from her. "We aren't allowed to interfere too much. We can't give away the future! We are only able to give vague warnings! He would plead with me, Victoria. Plead that I would forgive him for not being able to save me, for not realizing the truth sooner, and I couldn't answer him! I tried to tell him that he had nothing to ask forgiveness for! I was the one . . ."  
  
Resendo broke off his anguished speech, and Victoria cried the tears that he couldn't. "You have to help him, Victoria. You must help him. You're his only hope," he pleaded softly.  
  
"You know, Victoria. You just won't accept the truth," he said as he began to fade. "You must save him."  
  
"Señorita Escalante," Mendoza said as he pulled open the curtain. He looked around, his face more smile than anything else. "I thought I heard a man in here." He shrugged. "My men and I are getting the table ready. I've gotten everything just as we planned."  
  
Victoria was frozen, unable to move. What was happening to her? Was she going insane? Mendoza looked at her, his smile fading. "Are you all right, Victoria?"  
  
Shaking her head, Victoria looked down and rubbed her hand across her forehead. She had to think, but her mind was unable to grasp the easiest thought. "Victoria! I'm glad I came today! I told you that you needed help!" Beatriz's voice suddenly filled the room. Normally, the tavern owner would be struggling to hide her groan. The woman was a wonderful worker, but she was pushy and obnoxious sometimes. Victoria, ignoring her protests, had told her to take the day off to enjoy the festival, but Beatriz had apparently decided to do as she pleased. Victoria gave a short prayer of thanks.  
  
"I see that you brought your daughters, too," Victoria managed to say. She could read the concern in Beatriz and Mendoza's faces, but she did not have the strength to reassure them. "Beatriz, could you please take over the rest of the preparations? Almost everything is done, and Mendoza can help show you what we had planned. I--I don't feel well." It was not a lie. Victoria felt as if she had fought three rounds with a professional fighter- -and lost.  
  
Beatriz quickly forced her out of her kitchen, spouting reassurance as Victoria went out of the curtain. Even in her panicked state, she managed to smile at Mendoza's alarm. She understood Mendoza's fear of being left alone with the part-time tavern help. The woman reminded him of the alcalde, but Victoria knew that the two would get along great together after they had worked side by side for a few moments. Beatriz had a heart of gold under her gruff exterior, and she knew how to cook. Victoria thought they would make a great couple . . .  
  
She sank down on her bed, and put her elbows on her knees. Gently rubbing her temples, Victoria tried to think. Ramón had asked her to save Zorro, and Resendo had pleaded with her to save Diego. Images of Diego filled her mind. The way he had walked into the tavern on the day of his return from Spain. His features blurred from her tears on the day he had left. She had hidden behind a corner of the garden wall to watch him wave goodbye to his father and Felipe, her heart filled with the longing and love of youth. Diego's smile when he had wrapped his arm around her and danced away with her to save her from having to dance with the alcalde. The sparkle that was in his eyes when he got a new book from Spain. The angry passion on his face when he spoke to the royal emissary about DeSoto's taxes, and the heart-breaking dullness in his eyes when he had stood beside his brother's grave.  
  
Victoria stood, exasperated at herself. When had Diego begun filling her thoughts? Rubbing her arms, Victoria paced around her room. She should be focusing on Zorro. His life could be in danger, although Ramón had not exactly said it was. She had been worrying about Diego for a month surely she could put her thought on the man she loved for one day, the man in black who rode into the pueblo on his great stallion to save the day too many times. Diego could be helped after she had helped Zorro.  
  
Why did that thought not feel right? Why did you she have an overwhelming need to help Diego first? The governor was due in an hour, and she still had not made a decision. Sighing, she grabbed her cloak. She would ride like the lancers were chasing her to the de la Vega hacienda, talk a few words to Diego, and then come back to keep an eye out for the assassin. Maybe she could even warn the caballeros to keep a look out for the man . . .  
  
When she stepped into the bright sunlight, Victoria's eyes watered. She was so tired, and time was quickly passing. She noticed Felipe looking around the plaza and heading towards his horse. He was walking fast, but trying not to draw attention to himself. Victoria wondered where he was going in such a hurry. Unexpectedly, her mind filled with images of herself being tied up with a visiting writer. She had been worried that Felipe, unable to hear the commotion out in the tavern, would walk out of the kitchen where he was delivering eggs at any moment and startle the thieves. After a few minutes had passed, Victoria had realized that the boy must have left from through the back door. Zorro had appeared so quickly that day, and the only person who could have told him that she was in danger was Felipe.  
  
It was at that moment, two men became one in her mind. Diego and Zorro-- She loved both men because they were both parts of the same person. Victoria gasped, breathing suddenly a difficult task. The ghosts were pleading with her to save the same man, and they had told her that in her heart she knew the truth.  
  
Victoria raced to grab Felipe's arm. He turned to look at her, and she could see the mild panic on his face. He wanted to get home to warn Diego that he was needed in the plaza, and she was not going to let him do it. "Come with me," she commanded, pulling on his arm. She smiled at her tone. It reminded her of her mother. Her mother . . .She was going to be a mother to Felipe!  
  
She stormed over to where Don Alejandro was talking to some friends. "Don Alejandro! We need your help," she shouted as she walked over to him. She saw the old don look at his future grandson with a question in his eyes. She could imagine the confused look the boy was giving back to the man. "Felipe just saw someone acting suspicious around my tavern. I think someone means to hurt the governor."  
  
The caballeros laughed. "Who would want to hurt the governor?" asked Don Esteban, amusement dripping from his words.  
  
She could not keep the anger from her voice or her eyes. "Any number of people, Señor. Not everyone's life is as comfortable as your own. A hungry man is a dangerous man."  
  
"What did you see, Felipe?" Alejandro asked. Victoria turned to look at the young boy--man. She found his eyes focused on her, a question in his eyes, as he answered his soon-to-be grandfather. He had noticed a man priming a gun before walking covertly over to the church. The caballeros all focused their eyes onto the roof of the church. Zorro and others had used the roof of the church for a good aim at people or things in the plaza. "I think you are right, Victoria. You and Felipe stay here. Esteban, Sebastian, and Arturo, you come with me. The rest of you, be prepared for a fight!"  
  
Victoria and Felipe stared at one another, each oblivious to the activity going on around them. She could see the questions Felipe wanted to ask her on his face, and she was sure that her questions were just as obvious. The only way Felipe could have known about the fight in her tavern that day was by having overheard it while he was in the kitchen. He could not have walked out, because everyone would have noticed. Had he always known Diego's secret? How long had he been able to hear? Why had Diego not told her the truth years ago?  
  
Alejandro walked over and enveloped the boy in his embrace. He pulled away and spoke carefully so that Felipe could read his lips. Victoria realized that he did not know the truth about Felipe's hearing. Diego never talked to him that way, even in public. She suddenly felt angry with Diego for keeping such great news away from his father, away from her. "Good work, my boy! He was going to shoot the governor the minute he stepped out of the coach! You stopped him, saving a man's life."  
  
"I'm sure Zorro would have stopped him, Don Alejandro," Victoria heard a voice in the crowd speak. She did not even care who it was that spoke. She let her anger overtake her. Her eyes were flashing and the wind was blowing her hair away from her face. Don Alejandro would later say that he had never seen her so beautiful. The memory would only be surpassed by the day she married his son, and the days that she gave him his long-desired grandchildren.  
  
"Diego was right," she snapped. "We can't expect Zorro to do all of our battle for us. Don't you, the leaders of our fine community, ever get tired of not being the men your fathers were?"  
  
"Victoria!" Alejandro was stunned by her words.  
  
She looked at him with anger, too, something no one had ever seen before. Everyone knew her admiration for Don Alejandro. She had never even raised her voice at that particular caballero. "You are the only one who is even willing to speak out, Don Alejandro! None of these fine men ever bother to fight for justice like their fathers had before them! No, they just let you speak out, and Zorro fight the fight. They don't even have the excuse that they had with Ramón. I admit, he would have hung them, but DeSoto wouldn't dare argue with every caballero in this territory. He knows that he needs your support! But they just sit back and ignore the injustice as long as it doesn't personally touch someone they care about or take something of theirs from them!"  
  
Alejandro stood silently in front of her for several heartbeats. "Victoria, that isn't fair."  
  
"Yes, it is," said Doña Consuela. Everyone turned to look at her in surprise. She was the epitome of the Spanish lady. Everyone wondered how such a fragile woman lived in the territory. She should have been in a parlor in Madrid, entertaining the cream of society. "Before Ramón's threats, I would often entertain you all in my home as you decided what needed to be done. When is the last time that you all met to handle the problems of the community? Now, the only time you come together is when one of us ladies decides we wish to have a party, and from what I overhear, you only get together to complain." Her husband looked embarrassed and proud at the same time.  
  
Victoria decided she did not care what the caballeros did, at least what these caballeros did. There was only one that mattered to her, at the moment, and she needed to get to him. She looked at Felipe--more from habit than from thought--and asked him to take her to the de la Vega hacienda. "Victoria." Alejandro's voice was soft.  
  
"I'm sorry. I don't feel well, and I would like to visit with Diego." She looked around at the horrified faces of the caballeros and realized that her point had been made with most of them. Some, as it had always been, refused to listen to a woman, and had dismissed her statements before they were even said. Suddenly, Victoria was glad that she lived in the colonies and not in Spain. Here, she was admired for her thoughts by most, especially the ones that mattered to her, but in proper society, she would have been shunned for such talk. In Spain, Alejandro would have disowned his son for wanting to marry a lowly tavern owner. Here, the classes mingled a little easier, and she believed Don Alejandro would welcome her into his family. Some of the caballeros would be horrified, but their opinions didn't matter to her.  
  
The man she had always admired nodded his head in understanding, even though he was still hurt by her outburst. Victoria hoped that one day she could explain to him why she was so angry, that she was desperate to protect his son. Before leaving, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek that caused another murmur of surprise to run through the crowd.  
  
Felipe was forced to run to keep up with her. He helped her up into Don Alejandro's buggy, and got into the driver's seat. He whipped the reins, and they were on their way to see Diego.  
  
They were a mile from the pueblo when Victoria spoke again. "You've known from the beginning, haven't you?" Felipe looked over his shoulder. He slowly nodded and then turned back to watch the team. Not another word was said between the two until they got to Diego. 


	2. Chapter 2

Looking at the man she loved, without his mask, Victoria felt the tears burn her eyes again. He had lost weight, and it hurt to see how pale he looked. He did not even look up from his books for a moment. He must have felt their eyes watching him though, because he looked up like he was expecting to see someone. "Victoria."  
  
She let a few tears fall. "Felipe saved the governor from an assassin today," she managed to say. Diego looked over in surprise at his son. How had she missed that silent communication--not even gestures were exchanged-- between them?  
  
Why didn't you come and get me? Diego was asking without saying a single word.  
  
I was going to, but . . .There's a situation you should know about . . . Felipe answered in the same way.  
  
Diego's eyebrows drew together. He looked back at Victoria and put on that bland face she hated. "Well, I'm very proud of you, Felipe." She could here the very real pride in his voice. "What happened?"  
  
"He . . .He a--" Suddenly, Victoria could not hold it together. The deep sobs that had been hiding in her forced their way out into the open. She did not want him to see her like this, so weak and helpless. He was the strongest man that she knew, stronger than she ever suspected. He deserved someone just as tough.  
  
He jumped up and rushed over to her. "Victoria!" How had she missed that love in his voice? She should have figured it out years ago!  
  
He put his arm around her, and she felt laughter bubbling up with her tears. His muscles were tense under his pristine white shirt, and she realized that he was just like most other men. The sight of a woman in tears frightened him. From the corner of her eye, she could see Felipe signing to him. He pointed at her, made a Z in the air, and pointed at Diego. For once, Diego's ability to read Felipe's signs deserted him. "I do not understand," he said. Like her, he wanted to deny the truth. The signs were even obvious to her!  
  
"He's saying that I know you are Zorro," she whispered, looking him in the eye. Flinching, Diego lowered his eyes so that she could not see them. It hurt, but she understood. The eyes were windows to the soul, and Diego was afraid for her to see his soul. He was afraid that she would reject him. He had said that in his cave, before he had given her his mother's ring.  
  
"I--I, uh--" She smiled at Diego's stuttering. He, who was always so brilliant with words, did not know what to say to her.  
  
She looked at Felipe, and he nodded in silent understanding of her unspoken request. He left them alone. Diego watched him leave with a mild look of panic on his face. The boy was a source of support to the caballero, but Victoria knew that they needed this time alone to work out their problems. Besides, she understood that Diego would share most of the conversation later with him.  
  
"When?" she asked as if Diego has said the word. "Almost an hour ago when I saw Felipe walking to his horse. I knew then what I had tried to deny for so long. How? Well, we'll keep that one for later. I don't think I believe it, and I was there."  
  
Turning to look at him, she grinned. She threw herself into his arms and kissed him. She loved the feel of his lips caressing hers, the rough hairs of his mustache scrapping across her upper lip. She ran her fingers through all of his hair, enjoying the feeling of being able to hold a part of him that had been hidden from her before now. All of him was open to her, just as she had always wanted.  
  
"I love you," she whispered as his lips worked their way down her throat.  
  
He pulled away and stared down at her. "I always said that I would wait until the mask was gone forever."  
  
Shrugging, Victoria placed little kisses on his throat. "Zorro can wait until then. How does Don Diego feel?"  
  
He ran his hands through her hair, pressing them against her skull in a gentle caress. He raised her head so that their eyes could meet. "He's madly in love with you," he answered seriously.  
  
"Good," she replied and reached up to draw his mouth to hers again.  
  
***  
  
Later, they sat in the cave. They had decided it was a better place to talk, since the household was beginning to resemble Pandemonium as the staff prepared for the arrival of their guest. Felipe knew where to find them if they were needed. Diego watched her as she looked around the room. The clues were so obvious to her now. The cave reeked of Diego de la Vega. The books he was so proud of littered the small room. His love of science was shown throughout from the board covered in butterflies to the little flask boiling away at the table. She had missed it all before, blinded by her fears.  
  
She hugged herself as she began talking in a hushed voice. "I've been worried about you all month."  
  
Diego nodded. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to awaken you that night, I just needed to see--"  
  
"No!" she yelled, turning around to face him. "I've been worried about you! Diego de la Vega has been in almost every thought that I had for a month. I--I wanted to comfort you, but--Your pain became my pain."  
  
He reached up to caress her face. He was started by her words, she could tell. "I didn't know that Diego was worthy of much notice," he admitted finally.  
  
She grasped his hand, and rubbed her cheek against it. "Diego's always been worthy of notice! Even when I didn't want to notice him. I always knew that if there hadn't been Zorro . . ." Her voiced trailed off into silence. Neither spoke for a few minutes, imaging a world where there was no Zorro. Victoria dreamed of a houseful of kids, but Diego was remembering the horrible nightmare Don Fernando had shown him one Christmas. One of these days, he would share what he had seen in that world with her so that she would know her sacrifice had been worth something.  
  
"I was wanting to worry about Zorro, but I couldn't seem to focus on him." She sighed, trying to think of how to tell him the great truth that had hit her earlier today. "So--Something happened earlier that made me think, and- -and I realized that I had a hard time worrying about Zorro, because he--he wasn't real."  
  
Diego pulled her into his lap. "What do you mean?" he whispered into her ear. His breath moved the hairs on the back of her neck, causing her to giggle. He grinned, knowing what had brought the sound of joy from her.  
  
"Zorro is Zorro. He's not a man to me, Diego. I think he was once, but then--I started to believe the legend, too. He was invincible and always ready to fight. He had no fear as he fought off the lancers! I never really tried to figure out who he was because--I couldn't let him be a man, because if he became a mere man. A mere man can be hurt and killed, Diego." Her soft words seemed to echo off the cave walls.  
  
Laying his head down on the top of here, he whispered, "I know."  
  
Victoria's eyes filled with tears again. "Promise me you will be careful."  
  
"I promise," he said. "I have a lot to stay alive for." Victoria turned in his arms, and kissed him. She wanted to remind him what he had to waiting for him.  
  
"I worried about Diego, because he needed me. Zorro never needed me." Her voice was gentle as she caressed his face. She could tell that her words still stung him.  
  
"I always need you," he avowed.  
  
Victoria smiled at him. "Yes, you do, but Zorro doesn't." Diego's face filled with confusion. "He is a part of you, Diego, I know, but he is that part that doesn't need anyone. The entire man might need me, but--"  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered.  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For not letting you know exactly how important you are to me. Victoria, you are the reason I can go on and fight the fight. Without you to support me, there would be no Zorro. He stopped being a part of me a long time ago. He's become something more, and you are a part of that more. He gets strength from you and from Father and from Felipe. You are what makes the fight worth it." She could not deny the passionate plea in that voice for understanding.  
  
"I love you," she said, tears in her voice and on her face. She was getting extremely tired of being so weepy.  
  
"And I love you," he said as his lips met hers. She felt abandoned when he withdrew them, but she understood. Diego was being the gentleman his father had taught him to be. They were alone here, and she knew Felipe would not bother them unless it was extremely important. It would not take much for things to get out of control here in this cave.  
  
She watched as he used his incredible discipline to get his focus on something else besides what they could be doing. "How, Victoria?" He asked the only question that she was unwilling to answer. Their visits were still too raw, too close to her. She also had a hard time telling her scientific man that ghosts had haunted her.  
  
He saw the hesitation on her face, and gave her a quick kiss. "You can tell me when you are ready. I think, though, that we need to get out of this cave. How about a stroll around the garden?"  
  
Later, Victoria lay in Diego's arms in one of the garden's chairs. It was not the most comfortable of positions, but she did not want to be anywhere else. The sun was beginning to set, and she could imagine that she was hearing the ocean waves hitting the beach in the distance. She and Diego really needed to take a trip to Santa Paulo again . . .  
  
"And over here is where we usually sit to watch--" Don Alejandro stopped his speech cold as he watched a startled Diego stand and lower Victoria's legs to the ground. Victoria managed to stop the giggle that wanted to escape her. The open-mouthed astonishment on the father's face was matched perfectly by the horrified gaze of the son.  
  
The governor and his party looked just as amused as she was. "Uh, this lovely lady is Victoria Escalante. She owns the tavern in town, and this young gentleman is my son, Diego." Alejandro's manners took over his actions, because Victoria could see that he had lost the ability to think for a moment. He had never expected to find them in such a position.  
  
The governor and party were introduced to her, but she had to admit that she felt no awe at meeting such a powerful man. He had basically ignored the problems of Los Angeles over the years, and she felt no loyalty to him. She knew that Don Alejandro's heart would be broken if he could hear her thoughts, but she had a suspicion that Diego's would echo hers.  
  
"Your hacienda is truly lovely, Don Alejandro. Ah, I believe we will retire for a few minutes before dinner to freshen up and dress." Giving a proper little nod of his head, the governor left, followed by his party.  
  
Alejandro turned to look at his son and future daughter-in-law--even if he did not know her relationship to him, yet. "I would like some answers."  
  
Victoria squeezed Diego's hand, smiling at the man she had admired as a father figure for years. "And you'll get them." She felt Diego flinch, and she looked over at him. He relaxed as he read the message in her eyes. "After the governor is gone, Diego and I have a lot to tell you." He deserved to know, but she knew that he needed to be told in private at a time that he could absorb all of the information. Right now, his focus needed to be on hosting and getting the alcalde cleared.  
  
"I think you two need to get dressed for dinner," she told the two men that were so dear to her.  
  
"Victoria--" Diego began, but she cut him off knowing what he was going to say. "No, Diego. I didn't come dressed or prepared to eat dinner with you. I'm going to sit out here and do some thinking. Now, go!" Both men reluctantly left to do her bidding.  
  
Looking up into the darkening sky, Victoria could see the hint of a few stars. "Thank you," she said.  
  
"No, thank you," said two voices in unison behind her. She spun around to find both of her ghosts sitting at the table. What was it with these ghosts and tables? "You did what we couldn't do. You had all the information, you just needed to be pushed to open your eyes."  
  
"Thank you," she said again. She looked at Resendo, the man who looked so much like the man she loved. "I will tell him soon why, and I will tell him that you helped save him." He gave a nod of his head, but his eyes shinned their gratitude to her. She looked at both ghosts, and asked the question that had plagued her all afternoon. "Would he have died today?"  
  
Ramón was the one that answered her. "No, he wouldn't have died, but there is more than one way to become a ghost."  
  
"He was in danger of losing his soul, Victoria. He should have told you and Father long ago. You cannot understand how deep of a truth he shared with you earlier. You are his reason for fighting, and if he lost you--" Resendo stopped, realizing that he was revealing too much. "You saved that wonderful soul of his today. Thank you, Sister." Victoria smiled, touched that a ghost was welcoming her to his family.  
  
"Victoria," Diego's voice called from behind her. Victoria looked over her shoulder, and then back to the table. They were gone. A warm arm surrounded her waist. "I found a dress of Mother's for you to wear. No protests. Felipe already had Maria set you a place. You are going to be a de la Vega soon, so you might as well get use to it."  
  
Victoria turned in his arms, surprised by his words. He was going to marry her in the near future. Diego was not going to wait for Zorro's mask to be put up forever before he pledged his life to hers. She felt a moment of fear that their marriage might give so much away, but she ignored it. They would be able to handle any questions. Her outburst in the plaza might even help them with their story. She was tired of waiting for Zorro and turned to her good friend Diego . . .  
  
He kissed her quick on the lips before looking around the garden. "I thought Miguel was out here."  
  
"Why?" Her brow was creased in puzzlement.  
  
He laughed softly. "I thought I heard a man's voice talking to you."  
  
Victoria grinned, relieved that she was not losing her mind after all. "No, I was just talking to the dead."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'll tell you later." She kissed him, and then turned to see Isabela walking out of the hacienda towards them.  
  
"Tomorrow night, I'll come see you at the tavern. Father has plans for us to visit with the governor and the caballeros are having a meeting in the evening I need to be at," he whispered quietly. She could hear his puzzlement about the gathering, and knew that he would eventually hear the reasons behind it. She was just thrilled that maybe things were going to change for everyone. It was time for the people to start fighting their own battles. With the help of Zorro, of course.  
  
He greeted the older lady who had been his mother's maid, before telling Victoria: "Isabela will take you to Mother's quarters. The dress is lying on the bed for you." She loved the fact that he was unwilling to push her for answers that she knew he was anxious to hear. She would have to see if Zorro could come see her tonight so that she could tell him a story of a haunting.  
  
She left Diego alone in the garden. After she had finished her story later that night, he told her what had happened to him there . . .  
  
He stood in his garden watching her walk into the hacienda, giving thanks for the blessing that had brought her to him today. For the first time in a month, he felt alive. He was beginning to walk to the house when the wind spoke to him. "You are my brother, Diego," Gilberto's voice whispered to him. He turned to look, afraid that he was going mad, but there was no one there. The voice had been Gilberto's, the words had been Gilberto's, but the tone . . .Gilberto had said those words with hate, and now Diego was hearing them with love. He stood there, shivering in the cold, as he thought about those words. Then, from somewhere, a feeling of intense love surrounded him. It was then that he realized what it was that he had forgotten for this past month. Lost in a self-hatred for failing Gilberto and his father, his eyes had been blinded from a simple truth: He was loved. His father, Felipe, and Victoria--they all loved him and needed him.  
  
"Thank you, Gilberto," he said, unsure why he was thanking his dead brother, but somehow understanding that he owed him his gratitude. Smiling, he turned and walked back into his home. 


End file.
